Prodigal Son
by Judas Rising
Summary: Raven reflects on his life as a prodigal son.....Please Review, thank you!! rated for language. set just after alliance angle.


Prodigal Son 

Disclaimer: I dont own anything or anyone. Everbody in the fic owns themselves. Kid Rock owns the song. 

Please Review 

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My life has never had a high point. It's only had it's lows and neutrals. Black and grey moments. I can't pin point a moment where I was so happy with what was going on that I could actually smile. 

Smile. Now there was a word that is alien to me. Sure I manage to look half interested at parties and promotional do's with a little smile, but you should never judge a book by it's cover. A true smile should reach the corners of your eyes, making your eyes light up and twinkle. My eyes remain in the dark. 

*Cuz growin up I was never the logical one 

packed my shit and left home like the prodigal son 

with a bottle of jack and my shotgun strapped 

I went looking for fame and yo I've never been back * 

I left home when I was a young boy. There was no point in staying there. Being young and naive I had slight hope that there was more to life than being beaten and hated by your own parents. They did hate me, they told me so. My leaving was their idea, saying there was no use in having my sorry being around the house, making them sick. When they did actaully acknowledge me and speak to me, their words were harsh; but their silence was deafening. 

I set out to do something with my life, I didn't care what, as long as I didn't turn out like _them. _The streets are harsh and unforgiving, they take no prisoners. The streets will not hand you a tissue when you cry, they only eat your tears up, waiting ffor more. The streets feed off your pain, your grief flowing down the gutter, into the sewer, rushing through it's veins. 

I never really made any friends. I hated the world and the world hated me. 

*filled with spite staying high as a kite 

I was dealin and stealin everything in sight 

pool hustling trying to make that green 

I've been ramblin and gamblin since the age of 13 * 

I worked dead end jobs from the age of 16, just to support my basic lifestyle. All I needed to buy was food, pay the rent and pay for wrestling school. I decided to take up wrestling, it seemed like a good choice. I always liked wrestling and I always have been athletic, so I thought what the hell? 

It takes a lot of hard work and training to become a wrestler. My body aches with every move I make. The money is not a lot, pretty crappy actually when your still training. It certainly doesn't reimburse the injuries and fatigue. I used to think as soon as I started training I would be in a federation. I was in the indies, and they are tough. Tough on your body and mind. They wear you out so much, mentally, you world crumbles. 

I don't have to worry about that though, my world is already in pieces around my feet. How could it crumble anymore? 

*working like a bitch like a god damn tank 

some disagree because me rents had bank 

but all that's gold non't always glitter 

so I'll take another puff from my one hitter 

I'm a slave tot he trade I'm paid to rhyme 

blow all my cash on cheap women and wine 

cause money, money, money ain't shit to me 

but I gotta make a lot just to be free * 

I eventually made it into ECW. I liked it there. They let me do what I wanted most of the time, and I was able to express myself without being told that it affected people. From there it was onto WCW, which was just another place to wrestle. The shows were run by the main eventer's, like Hall, Nash and Hogan. He had to watch what he said in front of the fans, and he couldn'r wrestle the true Raven way. 

Now I am in the WWF. It was a good place to work, when they actually let you wrestle. There were so many guys on the roster that it was a struggle to get any air time. I found myself jumping around from Raw to Metal, to hosting Sunday Night Heat. What a great career. That was not how I thought my career would look. 

Being a WWF Superstar is something you cannot understand unless you are one of them. It is tiring, hard on your body, and cuts into your private life. Sometimes, it doesn't allow you to have a social life. That affected the scene of girlfriends for me. I have never really had a steady girlfriend. If I did, she would have to be strong; strong enough to put up with my traveling and my demons. Not many girls like the freakish kind of guys. This lead to a lot of betrayal and wasted time and effort. Most girls I end up with are one night stands. Worthless ring rats who are only interested in adding another name to the list of wrestlers she's screwed. And sometimes that suited me just fine. 

But now, i'm sick of it all. I want to feel accepted. I want to be understood, I want to be at peace. 

*Please God Please I'll pay any cost 

If you'd just stop the world cause I wanna get off 

there's too much hardship there's too much pain 

there's too many motherfuckers tryin to get in my brain 

I've been to your mountains I've been to your seaside 

and everywhere I went somebody's wanted a free ride * 

I have always had enemies, people who dont like me because I was different from everyone else. Then there's the people who are afraid of me, because i'm different. It's funny how just because your different from what people consider the normal folk, you are branded a freak. You become undesirable. You became another lost soul. 

*but parasites can't fake the Rock 

and any suckers that step in my way are getting shot 

cause I hold key to my own success 

and suckers that step shall be put to rest 

yes, I hold the key to my own success 

and suckers that step will catch a bullet in their chest, 

so pass the buddha the funky tie hooter 

and watch me rip because I'm such a slick shooter. 

not a generic dime a dozen M.C. 

never was in a posse never wanted to be * 

I never follow, I always lead. It's always been like that, and for that reason, people often brand me obnoxious, thinking I hold myself too highly to be a part of a group. I frankly don't give a shit what they think. Let the humble little sheep think what they want. They bury themselves in their rich lifestyles to avoid the reality that the world is not perfect. I have known reality for a long time. Reality is my lover, my ground. Reality is cold, like the way they percieve me. 

*now I've neen walkin the earth since the beginning of ti 

and won't leave till I've received that 7th sign 

all this talk their gonna drop the bomb, 

but life keeps going on and on and on and on 

the world's end don't worry me 

and I'm gonna get where I'm going just hurry me 

cause I'm in no rush and I can't stand rushin 

everything is slow motion like I'm trippin on tussin 

fussin with the girls they waste my time 

thrashin and bashin going out of my mind 

crucified by the critics everyday 

cause I ain't really got that much to say * 

I turned on my answering machine to find a message from good ol' J.R. He said that until the alliance is sorted out, I wont be needed for a few weeks. This means I am on paid vacation until they tell me they have found a spot for me to fill. Doesn't bother me. All I do is stand their and pretend to worship Austin anyway, now I wont have to lie to him when I say I appreciate him. 

*I'm a slave to the trade I'm paid to rhyme 

I don't wear a watch and i don't keep time 

I live my life just like the skipper 

but only at night because I'm a day tripper 

twitchin-shakin like corky shootin smack * 

I lay down on my bed, willing sleep to wash over my body. The problems and aches of the last lifetime wash over me in an instant, and I feel older than I am. Maybe I am, in a sense. My soul is old and weathered, having seen and been through things most people will never have to endure. I believe it should be a crime to put people through so much suffering they never recover. Speaking as a victim, I know the pain. I dont care so much about what I have gone through, but whatothers are forced to go through. 

No sin is bad enough to feel unwanted. We are all important, and those of us with demons, demons that watch as you sleep, waiting to make their move; we are unique. If we are still here to tell our stories, we are unique. We survived, and are still fighting. We will never give in. 

*but still life goes on 

visions of red shoot through my head 

and I won't stop trippin till the day I'm dead. * 

Qoute The Raven....Nevermore. 


End file.
